The Resident Violinist
by Yukaido
Summary: If Sherlock actually had a temporary off switch for that brilliant mind of his and he didn't have this compulsive need to be an insufferable know-it-all and show off all the time, I think that he could have been a professional violin player.


A/N: Sherlock, I'm going to steal your quote for just a second. Try not to throw a tantrum and blow any more holes in the wall.

**I'M ON FIRE.** Two one-shots, in little over a week? Wouldn't miss this for the world! Haha.

This story in my head cannon is a lull between the Hounds of Baskerville and the Reichenbach Fall (**no major spoilers in this story**), when John and Sherlock can just have a day to relax and not be worrying about matters of national importance crashing down on their heads. The style of this story, written in the format of a blog, is based on the actual blog of John Watson. Seriously guys, if you haven't read it? Go. Now. It's kind of amazing. Sherlock's website is also accessible to the public. I love the British. **SPOILER ALERT IN FOLLOWING LINKS.**

**h t t p: / / w w w. j o h n w a t s o n b l o g. c o . u k**

**h t t p : / / w w w. t h e s c i e n c e o f d e d u c t i o n. c o. u k**

As my sister so KINDLY scolded me for after reading my last fic, here's the disclaimer I failed to add last time:

I in no way own the rights to Sherlock in any capacity, weight, shape, or form. Or, for that matter, the rights to a John Watson. I'm sad now...

This can be taken as either friendship or slash between Sherlock and John, whatever your particular cup of tea is. There is nothing in here that tips it in either direction, so it's up to you! :)

_Story title a shameless rewording of "The Resident Patient" by Doyle._

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><p><strong>The Personal Blog of Dr. John H. Watson<strong>

9th April

_The Resident Violinist_ – Personal Entry, Private

If Sherlock actually had a temporary off switch for that brilliant mind of his and he didn't have this compulsive need to be an insufferable know-it-all and show off all the time, I think that he could have been a professional violin player.

Actually, scratch that last bit. I suppose Sherlock does tend to show off on the violin too, on certain occasions. But surprisingly, the showing off when it comes to his music is actually pretty rare. It's during these slow days, days when Sherlock and I are simply sitting back and wasting the day away, when Sherlock's true music is made. These are the days I know Sherlock is nowhere _near_ the heartless bastard that most of the people in the Force make him out to be. There's love there, love for his instrument, love for the music he creates; it's evident that it's there, in every pore of his being, no matter how many times he tries to deny its existence.

It has actually been a rather unusual day for the flat. On top of there being no clients or any new cases from Lestrade (his name is Greg, Sherlock, I swear it is), no new body parts are hiding in various places in the fridge, no experiments are littering the counters or the table, there have been no shrieking violin scales, no exclaimed "Bored!"'s every five seconds, not even a single new bullet hole in the wall declaring that the mind of Sherlock Holmes is once again unoccupied, for going on…16 hours now. That has to be some kind of record for him.

Instead, Sherlock's playing his violin. Right now it's a rendition of one of Beethoven's concertos I think, following some pieces by Bach from a few minutes ago, some other classical sounding pieces, and even a few upbeat and current songs that he must have played for my benefit. I'll be the first to admit that I'm not the most educated man in the world on classical violin music. It's not full of flourishes like at the Christmas Eve party or a racket like whenever Mycroft comes around or he's "thinking", simply Sherlock drawing the bow across the strings of his violin and bringing soft music to the flat. And it is some of the most amazing music I've ever had the pleasure of listening to.

I'm not going to lie. Sherlock Holmes is a fantastic violin player, when he chooses to show it. I daresay after that rather childish display with Mycroft and the missing missile plans just a few weeks back, that Sherlock's brother has never been offered this particular option. But on these rare occurrences when Sherlock doesn't have a case to solve and is content enough to let mind take a day's breather (or as much of a "breather" as he is capable of), I get a small glimpse of the truly talented musician in Sherlock.

I think what is the most captivating thing about Sherlock playing the violin is the amount of emotion he puts into every piece. You heard me, emotion. Each note, each movement of his fingers and bow, each fleeting expression that crosses his face is so unlike the usual stoic, robotic Sherlock Holmes that is my flatmate, that it's uncanny even. When Sherlock picks up that bow and begins to play, it's like a complete transformation overcomes him. It's not obvious to those who don't know him as well as I do; I don't think even Mrs. Hudson fully realizes the differences between the Sherlock she knows and this Sherlock I'm watching now. Where others simply see Sherlock picking apart a piece as methodically and ultra accurately as he would a murder case, I see the music taking over him, causing his body to sway ever so slightly with it, for him to lean into each strike of the bow against the strings, for his eyes to close as he focuses everything on the notes he is bringing to life. Oh God, now I'm waxing poetic and making scientific deductions. Living in this flat is definitely having a bad influence on me. I guess that's just another thing I can add to my list of things to blame on Sherlock, like the fact that I no longer do the shopping for perishables without disinfecting the inside of the fridge within an inch of its life.

_Anyways_, back to what I've been talking, well I guess typing, about. Sherlock really is something else when it comes to the violin. Had he seriously considered pursuing music rather than gangs and evil masterminds, I have no doubt he would have made a name for himself. Not that he doesn't have one now, but, well…let's just say it would have been a much different crowd of "fans" following him, namely not of the dangerous kind or annoying press category.

For all the other times that Sherlock Holmes lacks finesse and grace (read: pretty much everything else he does), this is one thing he can never be outmatched in for grace, and yes, I'll say it, beauty.

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><p><em>John's fingers lifted slowly from the keyboard, glancing through the paragraphs he had typed and making a few minor edits, mostly grammar, before nodding to himself in satisfaction, his right index finger going hovering over the key that would save the entry; when Sherlock suddenly launched into a rather interpretive version of a song by some bright, popular little thing that they had had the absolute <em>_pleasure__ of suffering through a few nights ago in a cab bringing them back from another finished case. Leave it to Sherlock to take it upon himself to fix the problem of musically misguided youths these days. It was almost as if Sherlock knew what John had last typed, and this song was his response, or rebellion, against the last few words in the document. So with a pause and then a few more taps of his fingers across the keys, John re-amended his closing statement._

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><p>For all the other times that Sherlock Holmes Lacks finesse and grace (read: pretty much everything else he does) this is one thing he can never be outmatched in for grace, and yes, beauty. Sherlock's music is beautiful, but of course, being Sherlock, he always has to make me eat my words by putting his own twist on it by the end.<p>

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><p><em>Now completely satisfied that the entry was complete, John clicked the "save" button on his draft to finalize it, and after verifying it had indeed been posted under private on his page, he shut the lid to his laptop. Sherlock's eyes met that of his flatmate's from just a few feet away, never once pausing in the movements of his bow, and but grinning to himself privately. It was only later, when John once again found that he had been coaxed into doing the shopping without remembering how or when it happened, that Sherlock was obviously using this shopping trip as an opportunity to hack into his blog while he was out. John groaned.<em>

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><p><strong>Oh John, you so silly. Personal thoughts, safe? With Sherlock Holmes within a 5 mile radius? I think not. As always, please leave me a review and let me know what you thought. Favorites, and especially reviews, always make my day! Thanks! - <em>Yukaido<em>  
><strong>


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